Christmas for Daddy
by GalaxieGurl
Summary: Follow Brennan, Christine, and little Hank as they search for Christmas gifts for the person in their family who relishes Christmas the most. This is for DukeFan1982 who requested: Brennan, Christine, baby Hank, any plot elements, no Booth, T rating. I'm starting early, as my holidays will be hectic.
1. Chapter 1

Christmas for Daddy

This is a first chapter of DukeFan1982's 2017 Fan Fic Christmas Gift Exchange story. It deals with the Booth children's gift shopping for their father and family.

Chapter 1

Dr. Temperance Brennan could handle a classroom filled with curious, yet impatient university freshmen, a whole lab full of competitive summer interns vying for the few available positions as her doctoral advisees, and a laboratory table covered with bones from this century or any other. But managing a group of over-excited little girls in a huge Michaels' craft store was something else again.

The numerous aisles of the Congressional North location offered distractions galore for the six Daisy Scouts she was chaperoning. They scattered like dry autumn leaves despite her careful instructions to stick together before they'd left the car. Christine and Kennedy were staying the closest, but even they had strayed toward the sparkling Christmas trees display two aisles over. And wandering kindergartners wasn't her only problem this afternoon.

Hank had outgrown her Infantino child carrier, despite its advertised 40-pound capacity. Being married to Seeley Booth meant having tall offspring. Christine had been comfortable in the baby carrier much longer, even past that weight. Purchasing a new carrier was on this weekend's errand list. Thankful she had transferred the umbrella stroller from Booth's SUV that morning, Brennan leaned over and tightened the straps around her squirming little boy.

She wouldn't have been surprised if he'd stood up in it and taken off. Despite being only three months past his first birthday, Hank Booth seemed determined to conquer every baby development milestone early. He'd taken his first steps at nine months, and by now, was gleefully lurching around their house, constantly practicing his new-found mobility.

At present, the youngest Booth child was vociferously protesting his stroller incarceration, only too eager to follow the big sister he adored. Retrieving a small box of organic animal crackers from her diaper bag/backpack, Brennan tore it open and handed it to Hank.

"Kiki!" he chortled, grabbing a treat in his chubby fist.

"Christine! Kennedy! Will you kindly stay by the stroller as I asked you to?"

"Sorry, Momma."

"Okay, Missus Booth."

At that moment, Brennan cell phone beeped. She pulled it out and peered at the screen.

" _Meet me at the Christmas tree display, Dr. Brennan."_

"Christine, can you and Kennedy push Hank's stroller for me, please? Each of you take a handle, and let's meet Mrs. Fuller by the Christmas trees," Brennan said.

"Ohh, goody, they're so sparkly!" Kennedy enthused.

"Sure, Momma, we're good pushers," Christine announced.

"Cree!" Hank crowed. Christine was his favorite person in the entire world.

The frazzled Scout leader smiled tiredly at Brennan as they approached.

"I didn't think they'd be quite this _wired_ already," she muttered above the girls' heads.

Then she assumed her best Sunday School teacher persona and spoke to the scouts.

"Girls, have you decided not to give your parents any gifts this holiday season?"

Ten puzzled young faces turned toward her. "Huh?"

"Unless we get our craft supplies purchased today, we won't have time during troop meetings to complete your gift project. And if you young ladies can't stay right with us leaders, we will be leaving this store very soon. Just because Lilly's mother couldn't join us today with baby Joe being sick, is no reason for you to be running amok!"

"Your parents will be at school to pick you up at our regular closing time, and we can't keep them waiting. If you can't stay together, we'll just have to return to school right now! Can you do that? Which will it be? We must shop efficiently and a wandering flock of geese can't accomplish that! Am I clear?"

"Yes, Mrs. Fuller….we're sorry!" the kindergartners chorused.

"Good, I'm glad that's settled!"

"Now we're going to walk to the fabric and notions section. We need several colors of felt, and gold cording. The items we're buying are all on the same aisle, so I don't expect you girls to scatter!"

"Hannah, Sylvie, and Amanda, you three go find the black felt. Neisha, Brooke, and Heather, you girls locate the pink felt. Monique and Tran, please ask where the spools of metallic cord are stocked. "

"Kennedy and Christine, could you please push Hank's stroller to the cutting counter for Christine's mother as you were doing? That's a big help for her."

"You girls take five minutes to locate the materials we need, and meet us back at the fabric counter over there."

Brennan smiled at the leader. "My husband would be impressed. You're almost as good as his Lead Agent Aubrey at gaining cooperation from unruly subjects."

"I try," Helen Fuller sighed. "Scouting imparts life skills learning, when it works right. Last week we calculated the yardage we'd need for the phone book covers, looked at the Michaels' website to see what colors of felt were on clearance, and how much we'd save buying that way.

She lowed her voice, and continued, "I meant to tell you; at our last meeting when I was coaching the girls on calculating what supplies we needed, Christine realized, from looking at her ruler, that since each phone cord is six inches long, we could make two cords per foot. That's pretty advanced thinking for a kindergartner, Dr. Brennan."

"My dad babysits our children two afternoons a week. He was a high school science teacher, and loves to play educational games with Christine. Her mathematical reasoning skills have increased rather strongly since he's been working with her. She's already a bright child, but each lesson disguised as fun or play forms additional neural connections in the brain."

Helen Fuller chuckled inwardly. She had become accustomed to hearing the scientist's academic mini-lectures in everyday conversation, and realized how dedicated Brennan was to enriching all the girls' lives. She was the most active parent volunteer in the troop, despite her busy schedule.

The fabric department occupied two long aisles of the store, with its counter located between them, so the adults could easily keep an eye on their charges as the girls carried out their tasks. A slim dark-haired teenager manning the counter smiled at the pair.

"You ladies have your kids well in hand. Some of the shoppers I see exercise no control over their children, and they run all over the place. I was a Girl Scout until high school, and I miss making those holiday gifts with my friends. I still use some of the craft ideas I learned in scouting when I need a gift on my budget!"

The girls walked quietly back to the counter and waited until the clerk had stopped talking.

"We found the felt, Mrs. Fuller! The pink and black are right next to each other."

"We found the cord on that aisle too. The gold color is right next to the silver."

"Well done, Daisies! Chelsea here is going to cut the felt and cord for us, since these scissors are very sharp."

Chelsea gathered the two bolts of felt and two spools of cording from the aisle behind her counter.

How many yards do you need of each?" she asked.

Each cover is 9" by 12", and the felt is 54" wide. We could get by with ¾ yard, but I'd like to buy one yard of pink felt to be safe. Each telephone requires a 4-inch square, but we'll buy some extra black felt in case someone cuts wrong. I believe one-fourth yard of black felt will be plenty for our project."

"Each phone cord is 6 inches long, so for 10 we'll need 5 feet of cord, but I want 6 feet just to be sure, please, Chelsea. Three feet of silver, and three of gold cord," Mrs. Fuller said, consulting her shopping list.

Once the fabric and cord were cut, coiled, and folded, Chelsea reached for a white plastic Michael's bag, but the girls stopped her.

"We have a reusable shopping bag, Miss Chelsea," Christine told her, pulling a handled cotton tote from Hank's stroller carry-all.

"Good for you," Chelsea commented as she filled the tote with their purchases as she scanned each one. "Have fun making your holiday gifts! I was a Girl Scout when I was your age, and I still remember all the fun my troop had doing those projects!"

"Oh, we will! Thank you for your help! We're having a sleepover to make them! Happy Thanksgiving, and enjoy whatever holidays you celebrate!" the girls told her.

"You too, guys. Thanks for shopping at Michaels'."

Once the scouts, Hank, and moms were belted back into their cars, the troop headed back to Jefferson Elementary where they lined up on a bench to wait for their parents, as they enjoyed apple juice boxes and graham crackers.

"Kiki, mamamama," Hank said happily between mouthfuls.

"I can't believe he can talk!" Hannah remarked. "My little cousin is bigger than your brother, and barely says a word."

"Don't worry about your cousin, Hanny. He will. Babies talk at their own rate, you know," Christine told her.

Helen Fuller grinned at Brennan, who chuckled at her daughter's mimicry.

"Put your trash in the barrel and get your backpacks, girls! Your parents are here," Mrs. Fuller said. "Next week we'll cut out our book covers, so Mrs. Morris can sew them for us."

Brooke smiled at her leader. "Since my gramma's sick, Mom has to stay home, but she sews really good!"

"Really well, Brooke, and yes, your mom will really be helping us by sewing them up! You can take home the bag to her next week. You and Monique buckle up in Mrs. Foster's car, okay?"

"Next week!" Monique said happily as her mother drove up.

As Brennan buckled a sticky Hank back into his car seat and wiped his face and hands, Mrs. Fuller said,

Thanks, Temperance, I couldn't have pulled off that shopping expedition without you!"

Brennan turned to smile at the leader. "It was more complex than the digs I've been on!"


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Mrs. Fuller had helped with her older daughter's Daisy troop enough to know that shopping during the Christmas rush with a gaggle of excited little girls was very unwise. So as her younger daughter's leader, she had timed the troop's shopping field trip to purchase their family gift craft supplies the week before Thanksgiving. Since school was closed for the 'Turkey Day' break, their next meeting fell during the first week of December. The girls had squirmed and fidgeted through their afternoon classes until the final bell rang, when they were finally free to gather in the cafeteria for Daisy meeting.

Over the last two weeks, Monique's mother had cut their pink felt into rectangles, folded each to form a book cover, and stitched along the top and bottom edges to make a front and back pocket. Over her daughter's objections that _she_ could bring them to school, the seamstress had dropped the finished covers by Helen's house Monday night. During the holifay weekend, Brennan had cut out a cardboard rotary telephone shape and supervised Christine in cutting the black felt into squares, and carefully tracing a telephone outline onto each. She had agreed to help the troop once again, but this time Hank Jr. was spending the afternoon with Grandpa Max.

The two mothers arrived early and placed the bags of craft supplies on a lunchroom table. As their Daisies munched on hot fresh unbuttered popcorn and Capri Sun drink pouches, Mrs. Fuller explained what they'd be doing.

"Once you girls finish your snack and dispose of your trash, please separate and sort our supplies into categories, and stack them along the table. Then each of you take a pink felt cover, one black felt square, silver or gold cord, and select some items from our decorations box. Get a pair of scissors and glue stick and fabric marker, then find a place to sit."

Mrs. Fuller brought a large plastic tackle-style box to each craft project meeting. Inside was a colorful assortment of beads, sequins, lace, rickrack, buttons, yarn, and miscellaneous fabric scraps the mothers had donated. The troop's supplies included a tub of child-sized scissors, glue sticks, colored pencils and crayons, bottles of glue, tubes of glitter, washable markers, Sharpies, and rulers. These Mrs. Fuller dispensed depending upon the troop's scheduled activities. Each month with some direction, the girls decided on a topic they'd like to explore, and selected a related project, field trip, or video to watch. They were too young to plan their meetings yet, but were practicing the basics, nonetheless.

During this, the first meeting of December, the eager young artists wasted no time setting to work on their Christmas phone book covers. Some girls decorated their phones with markers, while others glued on. The inevitable comments came that this shape looked _nothing_ like their parents' cell phones. Christine spoke up over the chatter.

"This phone is shaped like my dad's Bakelite rodary phone. It has a round thing on the front with holes in it for each number. You stick your finger in the hole, and pull it around until it hits the stopping place. It moves the same direction as a clock. I think that's how you put in the phone number. It's weird, but it works. I've called my Granpa Max and Great-GranPops on it, when my dad reminds me how."

Brennan chuckled. "It's called an electro-mechanical phone, girls. The dial connects to a tiny electrical current inside the phone which is interrupted each time you rotate it. When the electrical pulse stops, it signals which digit you are dialing. These dial telephones were used from 1892 until 1962 when a push button keypad model replaced them. The first cell phones in 1973 also used push button keypads. Once computers developed, these push buttons were gradually replaced with touch screens as technology advanced."

Helen Fuller smiled at her helper. In spite of her multiple advanced degrees, Dr. Brennan had a knack for explaining complex topics to children in simple language they could readily understand. Perhaps, she mused, this talent came from having a father who'd been a teacher. At any rate, her ten little Daisy Scouts always learned something new when Christine's mother was around.

As the hour-long meeting wound down, the decorated phone book covers were completed. Thankfully, the glue sticks were much neater than Elmer's glue. Wanting to be _very sure_ no decorations fell off their gifts, the girls had been extremely generous in their use of adhesives.

Mrs. Fuller clapped her hands and exclaimed, "My goodness, you have all done a great job on your gifts. Each cover is different and unique. Now they need to dry completely. Place your book cover carefully in these flat boxes to store."

"Next week, we'll insert the pages to finish them off, and then you may wrap them. I will bring plain white paper you can embellish however you wish, with tape and yarn for tying into bows. I like how each book cover reflects your ideas!"

"Now we need to store everything in its place, and clean up the tables."

She addressed her own daughter. "Amanda, please get the shaving cream for Dr. Brennan."

Knowing the table-cleaning drill from the Jeffersonian Daycare, Brennan squirted a thin trail of shaving cream across the table, spelling out 'Daisy Troop 472' in the process.

The little girls squealed in delight and smooshed the white foam around the surface.

"Sylvie, pull out one of those Chlorox wipes for me, please."

Mrs. Fuller wiped the table clean, removing the shaving foam.

"Everyone out to the cafeteria wash basin in the hallway; wash and dry your hands thoroughly," she directed. "Get your coats, hats, and backpacks. Your rides will be here soon. Let's sing 'Make New Friends, But Keep the Old' while we wait. Split into two groups, since it's a round."

As the cheery voices blended into the two-part song, she stacked the shallow boxes of drying covers in a criss-cross fashion and loaded them into her folding canvas craft wagon on top of the supply boxes. Various parents and grand-parents walked into the cafeteria to claim their children, and bid the leaders goodbye and thank-you.

"Temperance, thanks so much for helping again. We really accomplished a lot today; more than I expected; finishing those covers in one meeting. I couldn't have done it without you!"

Brennan smiled at the leader. "Our daughters couldn't enjoy and benefit from scouting without you, Helen! You give so much of your time; it's the least I can do."

"Come, Christine, we need to pick up Hank from Granpa Max's. I daresay his patience is wearing thin."

"Bye, 'Manda, see you tomorrow!"

Amanda Fuller ran over and hugged her friend, who squeezed back. "Kay, Chrissy, see you then!"

As they climbed into the Prius and belted in, Brennan complimented her daughter. "Your father will be so pleased to see that phone book cover. You did a nice job making it colorful, yet suitable for a man to usel"

"Don't worry, Momma, I'm making you a gift too, but I can't tell you _anything_ about it! It's gotta be a secret til Christmas!"


	3. Chapter 3

C4D Chapter 3

The Daisy Scouts had Santa plans for their leader, wanting to thank her for the fun experiences she made possible.

Unbeknownst to Mrs. Fuller, the other Daisy moms decided to give her a phone book as well. Monique's mother, Mary Foster, had cut out and sewn an extra pink felt cover, while Brennan prepared an extra black felt rotary phone, which Christine decorated with extra care. When Sylvie's mom, Amalie Freyere found Day Runner address/phone number booklet inserts on clearance and suggested the gift project, she had purchased an extra for the Girl Scout leader.

Tran Ye's mother Yen, an expert calligrapher, offered to create a handmade thank you card, lettering a poem written by Brooke's mom Anita. Mrs. Morris was a children's book editor whose poetry had been published by her firm. Neisha's mother, LaShonya Jackson designed wrapping paper for a Georgetown graphics company, and created a Daisy Christmas wreath woodcut just for the occasion, along with a generous roll of the original paper for Mrs. Fuller's use.

Heather's and Hannah's mothers, Emily Collins and Marcia Johnston, were hosting the girls to wrap their gifts the following Saturday during a troop sleepover. Mrs. Fuller was aware of this, since their next meeting would be spent decorating white paper for that very purpose. Neither she nor her daughter Amanda would notice an extra package wrapped on the sly.

Additionally, the girls had pooled their chore money for the last two months to buy their leader a Texas Roadhouse gift card. They decided she and Mr. Fuller would enjoy a good dinner, and loved that a portion of the proceeds were being donated to Homes for Our Troops, a charity which builds handicapped-accessible homes for disabled Iraq/Afghanistan veterans becoming accustomed to their new prosthetics.

The following Tuesday afternoon the grade school cafeteria was unusually quiet as ten young artists wielded markers, crayons and pencils. Little tongues poked out of mouths, young brows furrowed in concentration, and occasional sighs revealed the need to erase, revise, or otherwise conceal a design error, as flowers, birds, puppies, stars, and Christmas emblems took shape on the long roll of perfection was declared, they rolled up their work. The sleepover host moms would cut appropriately sized sheets for wrapping once their overnight had begun.

The girls would be excited to learn that Lilly, Amanda's cousin and an unofficial member of the troop, would be joining them. She had attended the same preschool as most of the Daisies. Helen's sister, Aunt Holly had decided to move in with Lily's grandparents during her father's year-long Navy deployment. Her work required overnight travel and Grammie Jane home-schooled Lilly anyway. She didn't get to see her pre-school friends often, so this overnight would be a fun surprise for all of them.

Friday night's sleepover _finally_ arrived. Their evening was crammed full of fun. They made fudge for their families, stored them in clear Glad containers with festive red or green lids, admired each other's book covers while carefully assembling their address/phone directories. Then they laboriously wrapped their family gifts in hand-colored white paper, tying fuzzy festive yarn bows to shut them securely. Ms. Emily and Ms. Marcia observed privately to one another that this finishing touch was hardly necessary, given the girls' extremely generous use of cellophane tape as they wrapped their treasures.

Once the business of aiding Santa was complete, the Daisies happily stretched out on sleeping bags to watch Frozen, Polar Express, and Mickey's Christmas, munching on microwave s'mores and guzzling frothy chocolate milk. By the time Mickey Mouse and Goofy saw Santa slide down their chimney, eleven little girls were sound asleep.

oooooooooooo

When Brennan picked Christine up from Marcia Johnson's condo at 10 a.m. Saturday morning, her daughter was exuberant. She chattered happily, filling her mother in on all the overnight fun. Ms. Emily had made mouse-eared chocolate chip pancakes, while the girls had a scavenger hunt for their socks which Ms. Marcia had hidden around the basement playroom.

The two Brennan-Booth ladies were meeting Angela for a morning of shopping and lunch. Selecting gifts for Booth and Hodgins was the agenda for their excursion. Brennan found the newest Tom Clancy novel, which she informed Angela was a misnomer, since Mark Greaney had become the series' author before Clancy's death in 2013.

"Sweetie, it's like someone using your name to continue the Kathy-Andy relationship if you decided to quit writing your books. Using Clancy's name sells books," Angela told her friend.

"I would never consent to that," Brennan protested.

"Not even if it meant a college fund for your great-grandchildren, Honey?"

That comment gave Brennan pause, but she didn't respond.

"Christine, do you think your father would enjoy a new leather belt to update his Cocky buckle? I noticed his dark brown one is showing some wear."

"That's a great idea, Mommy! What size does he wear?"

"Your father is a lean 36, kiddo." Angela told her.

"Daddy doesn't lean on stuff! He stands up really straight, Aunt Angie!"

"Christine, Angela means your dad is trim and muscular. He exercises and works out to be strong, right?" Brennan clarified.

"Yeah, Mommy, he does!"

"So 36 is how many inches around his waist measures, and his belt size, Sweetie," Angela continued.

Christine found a textured leather belt with a silver buckle, and a smooth ebony cordovan belt with a gold buckle.

"Those are both good choices for your father. How much money did you earn from raking leaves and helping with the lights?"

"I've got fourteen dollars, Mom. I need $13, 'cause they're on sale, right?"

"One costs that amount normally, but you want to buy two. 13 plus 13 equals 26. However, I have a 'buy one/get one free' coupon, so today, your $14 will cover your purchase, except for the sales tax, which I will pay for you," Brennan told her daughter.

They walked to the cashier's counter, where a young woman scanned and bagged the belts along with a gift box, accepted Christine's bills, and smiled at her little customer.

"Your dad will be pleased by your gift! These are nice belts; I gave my grandfather one for his birthday last year, and it's holding up very well."

Christine thanked the girl politely, and took her bag.

Angela bought two pairs of lamb nappa leather driving gloves for Hodgins to protect his hands while using his wheelchair. He was beginning to walk a little but still relied upon the chair for getting places quickly. He'd eschewed an electric chair so that his upper arm muscles would develop more, and the workout had paid off during several cases, when he'd supported himself gathering evidence from tight spaces.

"Mommy, I'm hungry!" Christine complained. "Could we please get some ice cream?"

Brennan glanced at her wristwatch, and shook her head. "It's nearly 12:50, no wonder you're hungry. Let's find something substantial to eat, and then perhaps some Dippin' Dots. How does that sound?"

Christine had only tasted Dippin' Dots once when Pops had come for a visit, and she bounced in delight. She knew this would be a special indulgence not often granted by her sugar-shy mother.

Angela smiled at her niece. "There's a MaMa Wok in the food court. Why don't we try there?"

Brennan ordered egg drop soup and shrimp chow mein. Angela chose moo goo gai pan, and Christine settled on egg rolls; one pork, one chicken, and one veggie.

Once they'd eaten and chosen mint chocolate Dippin' Dots for Christine, the trio headed to Angela's car. Booth and Hodgins had kept the boys, but the Flyers were playing Cincinnati at 2 pm, and Brennan knew her husband would be impatient to watch the pre-game shows. As they drove home, Christine realized that Michael-Vincent, Jeffrey, and Hank still needed to shop.

"Mommy, what about Hanko's gift for Daddy?"

"Don't worry, we'll take care of it in plenty of time for Christmas, Chrissy," Brennan smiled, glancing in the rear view mirror. "You can keep Daddy company while I take your brother shopping. That will be a very short trip; since he'll need a good bit of direction to pick out something other than Duplos or Mega-blocs!"

Christine chuckled at the thought of her father building with Duplos seated on the floor of his man-cave.

"Yup, Hank will need some help!"


	4. Chapter 4

The second Saturday of December found Angela's minivan parked in Booth's driveway as she texted Brennan of their arrival. With the turmoil and gymnastics required to get two active little boys strapped into car seats, she was understandably reluctant to repeat the process unnecessarily. Brennan was awaiting her call, and appeared at their front door immediately, with Hank in her arms, followed by Booth carrying his son's car seat.

Once the two toddlers were seated next to one another, Jeffrey and Hank engaged in an animated conversation no one else could completely understand. Michael Vincent smiled indulgently at the 'little kids' as his favorite aunt slid into the front seat.

The ladies were escorting their little men to the Rockville Town Square to enjoy the lavish Christmas lighting and buy gifts for Booth and Hodgins. Jack was back home, happily working with his insects in luxurious solitude, without the interruptions from two eager helpers.

He sighed with contentment as he measured his adolescent hissing cockroach. Nope, the bug hadn't gained any length, but was thriving nonetheless. As much as he loved his rambunctious sons, Hodgins relished an occasional chance to work unimpeded.

The moment the Hodgins-Montenegro minivan disappeared around the corner, Christine grabbed her father's hand and drug him toward the man cave stairway. She had convinced Booth it was the best place to work on her mother's Christmas gift, since maintaining secrecy was paramount. Brennan's scientific curiosity extended to all matters regarding her home and children, and concealing any project from her was challenging. If her mom came home unexpectedly, they could hide the gift project quickly.

Christine never let on that one part of her gift for Mom was very similar to Dad's. She was making several items for Brennan, one of which was a journal. She had found some khaki fabric scraps in her mother's sewing box, one large enough to make a book cover. Knowing Brennan wore khaki shorts on her digs, Christine felt it was an excellent choice.

Genny Shaw had kindly assumed Secret Santa Seamstress duties, sewn the edges for her the same way Monique Foster's mom had done. Because her mother was a writer, Christine had cut out a hand from pink felt her leader had given her, painted it holding a pencil with fabric markers, and added a pen lying nearby.

Booth had found a pack of journal inserts at Office Depot, so his wife could refill the book cover as needed. Brennan kept notebooks of all her personal work observations, from identifying victims in Bone Storage, and dig notes to precise records of her children's growth, health and development. He'd been deeply touched years earlier when he learned that she kept one for Parker as well.

Christine's artwork and observation skills were rather good for her age. The hand looked like a hand, and the writing implements were recognizable, even though charmingly childish. Angela's simple drawing lessons certainly helped, and Booth was justifiably proud of his daughter's decorated journal cover.

The second component of Brennan's gift was a pencil can. Christine had laboriously removed the 'Great Northern Beans' label from a can, washed and dried it. She told her dad she specifically chose that can because the interior was painted white. She shared her mother's attention to detail, Booth thought to himself with a smile.

This pencil can idea was one of Booth's favorite memories of Grams. His grandmother had taught Jared and him how to carefully cut Contact brand shelf paper, peel off the backing, line it up with the can's welded seam, and press out the bubbles as the sticky paper was smoothed around its surface. Then Grams had demonstrated using Elmer's Glue to secure a length of rickrack along the can's top and bottom edge as a finishing touch, just as the Daisy Scouts had done to decorate their phone book covers.

Christine, of course, kept this a secret from Booth, pretending she was seeing this technique for the first time. Then she listened happily to her father's description of making pot holders on a red 8-inch square metal loom with Grams. As a boy, Booth had kept his grandmother supplied with yarn loop potholders; his way of thanking her for her love and care.

The contact paper Booth found in the laundry room cabinet was camouflage-patterned. Brennan had purchased it for use on Hank's Halloween Army Scout costume. Since his wife had worn the same scuffed-up camouflage 'boonie' hat on all of her digs, it was a perfect pattern for Christine's pencil can.

Between her busy little hands and his large ones helping as needed, the determined daughter and amused father finished Brennan's Christmas gifts in record time. They stowed the items in a shoe box to conceal what they were. Instead of Christmas paper, Christine had chosen a new tea towel for wrapping her mother's gift. Booth was impressed by her savvy awareness of Brennan's environmental conservation concerns. He showed her how to hold the corners while tying yarn around the box.

"Grams told me this is how her mother and grandma wrapped gifts before Scotch tape was invented."

They cleared the low coffee table of craft supplies, hid the gift in Booth's video cabinet, and headed upstairs. After swathing Christine in Pops' apron, which wrapped around her waist twice and reached her ankles in spite of a tuck to shorten it, Booth pulled a box of brownie mix from the cabinet with a flourish.

"Let's bake a treat before your mom gets home. Get a couple eggs out of the fridge, Chrissy, and hunt down the canola oil in the pantry for me!"

By the time Brennan walked through the front door with Hank beside her, they 'd just slid a pan of brownies out of the oven to see if they were done.

"Oh, that chocolate smells delicious!" Brennan exclaimed. "Brownies or cake?"

"Bow-nees?" Hank asked. "Me, pweese!"

"You need a nap first, little man—" Brennan began.

"Bow-nees!" Hank wailed.

"Okay, Tiger, just a tiny one with some milk, and then off to bed," Booth soothed. "You can have another when you wake up, all right?"

"O-tay," Hank agreed.

"Booth, you know I don't like them having sweets before bed."

"Bones, one bite of chocolate one time won't kill his baby teeth!" Booth assured her.

He scooped his son up out of the booster seat. "Come on, Bub, let's get you tucked in! Kiss Momma and Chrissy."

"Mama, Kiki," Hank mumbled tiredly.

"Sleep tight, my sweet little boy. You were a good shopper with Mommy and Auntie Ange today," Brennan said softly.

"Have a good sleep, Hank," Christine chimed in.

But Hank didn't hear them. He'd already dozed off on Booth's shoulder.


	5. Chapter 5

C4D Chapter 5

 _Please note: This story is AU in all sorts of ways, one of which is Director Cullen's daughter Amy being ill, but not terminal. That episode was so tragic, I'm changing its implied outcome. In my little corner of la-la land, the cancer she is enduring through no fault of her own was detected early enough for her to survive the results of that dastardly clinic director malpractices!_

 **AN: I sort of owe the recipient of this story an apology on character content. I didn't intend to include Booth when I started writing this. My brain just kind of snuck him into the story. It's hard to leave out such a wonderful dad. You see, Dukefan1982 wanted Booth excluded from her Secret Santa fic exchange story. But since this Christmas tale deals with young children, it's also** _ **really**_ **tough to exclude the parent who LOVES Christmas above all other holidays, when the** _ **other**_ **parent only plays along for the sake of her mate and kids, if that aetheist mother is to receive any childish gifts on the BIG Morning. She can't help her children make her own gift, right? Soooo, just consider Booth as a necessary component of the holiday; like an extra string of colored lights, evergreen garland festooning the mantle or a holly candle centerpiece on the dining table.**

As much as he loved Christmas, Seeley Booth was the perfect parent-elf to assist his kids' gift-giving efforts. Once he had facilitated completion of Christine's presents for Brennan, his only remaining task was doing the same for little Hank. In years past, he'd helped Parker with buying something, but never with the choosing. His eldest son was insightfully creative and always came up with an idea perfect for Dr. Bones. The relationship Brennan and Parker shared had always been a very special connection each treasured.

On Tuesday afternoon, it was his turn to pick up Christine from school after Brownies. Booth's meeting with Director Cullen was unexpectedly cancelled for a consult with Amy's oncologist. Saddened by the young girl's tragic health dilemma, the senior agent made a spur-of-the-moment decision to cheer himself up. He told Charlie Burns he was leaving the office early and drove to the Jeffersonian daycare to pick up his son. After texting Brennan that he and Hank were spending a little quality father-son time, he greeted Juniper Hyde, the teacher in charge of Hank's classroom. The little boy looked up from his block tower immediately, and knocked it over in his excitement.

"Daddy!" he crowed.

"Hey, Tiger! Let's get your coat and backpack, and go shopping for Mom!"

"Momma!" Hank agreed.

Booth secured Hank in his car seat and headed for Congressional Plaza. He strapped his son into the umbrella stroller, much to the displeasure of its unwilling occupant, and started down the sidewalk.

"Henry Joseph Booth II, I don't have time to chase you all over this place today. We've gotta make hay fast, as your namesake Pops used to say. We've only got an hour until we pick up your sister. If you want your Christmas present for Mommy to surprise Christine as well, this is our only chance," Booth explained.

"Kiki! Momma!" Hank repeated.

Their first stop was Bed Bath and Beyond, where Hank chose a calendar towel from the colorful display. His father kept holding different designs in front of the stroller until Hank pointed to one. It featured a red male cardinal, and its duller brown mate, amid variegated leaves. Next, the two Booth boys went to the baking utensil aisle. Hank's attention was immediately drawn to a bright orange and chartreuse green set of silicon spatulas. One was wider; the other elongated and slender. Spotting one specifically intended for getting all the peanut butter out of the jar, Booth added it to the shopping basket he'd hung on the stroller handle. Finally, he pushed his son to a display of salt and pepper shakers. Hank studied the merchandise as seriously as his mother might have. He reached for a rooster and Booth caught it before the little hand could close.

"Great choice, Hanko! Grams used to have a rooster set almost like this one!"

Picking up the matching hen figure, Booth decided they'd selected enough, helped his son pick out a teddy bear gift bag and strode to the checkout counter. Pleased with himself for remembering the coupons Brennan kept in a kitchen drawer, he emptied the shopping basket onto the counter. As she scanned their purchases, the store clerk Cassie grinned at her little customer and his dad.

"Christmas shopping for your mommy?" she asked Hank.

"Mommy!" Hank responded.

"You have an adorable little boy, Sir," she complimented Booth.

"Thanks, he's definitely a keeper!" the proud father agreed. "Thanks for wrapping those roosters so carefully, Cassie. I hope my wife likes what we've got here, but I doubt she could dislike anything this little guy offers her. He made all the choices; I'm just providing transportation and funding!"

"You're a good dad," Cassie declared. "I'm sure she'll love these. Merry Christmas to you and your family."

"Right back at you, Cassie. Thanks again."

Once they were back at the SUV, Booth took Hank out of the stroller and swung him high in the air.

"You were a great little shopper, Hank, you behaved very well. Mommy would be proud of you!"

Hank loved it when his dad swung him around, and laughed with delight. "Momma!" he cried.

Once the car seat and seat belts were secured, Booth left the shopping mall, picked up Christine on time, and ordered pizza for dinner; veggie supreme for Brennan, cheese and burger for the children and himself. Reaching home before his wife, he settled Christine at the kitchen table with a snack and her homework, then carried Hank and the canvas shopping bag down to his man cave.

Settling Hank in his recliner, he took off his suit jacket, hung it on his desk chair, and emptied the shopping bag into his lap. Then opening the colorful gift bag, Booth encouraged his son.

"Put Mommy's gifts into the bag, Bub."

Hank loved to play grocery store with Christine, so he promptly complied.

Booth retrieved a package of red and green tissue paper from a drawer in his desk, extracted several sheets and put them into the gift bag to conceal its contents. Taking their last purchase, a small gift card, he pulled out his desk chair, sat down and lifted Hank into his lap. He put a pen in the little hand and closed his much larger one around the tiny fist, to guide the formation of four scraggly capital letters, 'H-A-N-K'. Then he printed 'To Mommy, with love' before tying the little card to the bag's handle.

Setting Hank on his feet, Booth opened a cabinet door in the walnut bookshelves lining one wall.

"Get your teddy bear bag and put it on the shelf, please, Hank. We'll store it in there until the Christmas tree is up."

"Twee," said Hank.

Okay, Buddy, we're all done. Let's go set the table before Mommy gets home."

Hank climbed the stairs, firmly gripping his dad's finger and went straight to a lower kitchen drawer where Brennan kept their napkins. Grabbing them in his chubby fist, he plopped one on each seat at the table.

As the doorbell rang, Brennan came in from the garage.

"I ordered pizza," Booth told her, as he answered the door to pay for their order.

"Thank goodness, I'm worn out! How's my family?" Brennan sighed, sinking into a chair. "Hodgins wants more equipment and Cam is balking due to budget constraints. With the two of them debating each other, it was a raucous afternoon."

 **P.S. I'm mulling an additional short bonus story to make up for adding Booth herein. We'll see what my brain can concoct.**


	6. Chapter 6

C4D Chapter 6

 **A/N: Okay, so I admit, toddler Hank might be a bit advanced for his age putting out the napkins for family dinner. Many kids would likely never do that, but hey, his mom is a genius, and his father's no mental slouch, and they both set constant examples of helping others for their children, so the little guy has learned a few things.**

The following Tuesday, Brennan returned to Christine's school to help Mrs. Fuller wind up the troop's family gift preparation. Retrieving the painstakingly, yet crookedly-wrapped packages from her minivan, Mrs. Fuller placed each one on the table, while Brennan distributed markers, crayons, and colored pencils among the seats. Each girl was provided with a sheet of stiff white paper to create a gift card.

There were, of course, extras in case of a mishap, but the adults carefully voiced only positive comments. Part of the charm of childish efforts lies in the wobbly nature of the results. Sylvie Freyere always cried in class if she tore her art paper, but there was little danger of that happening now, since the paper was nearly as thick as index cards.

It took the girls half of their meeting to design their gift messages. After taping the cards carefully to the bottom of each package, they slipped the gifts into white plastic bags and stored them in their backpacks. Returning to the tables, the little Scouts decorated lunch size brown paper sacks with holiday symbols.

The remainder of the hour was spent sorting a pair of donated socks, mittens or gloves and a warm knitted hat into each sack. During November the Brownies had put a cardboard box in each lower primary grade classroom to collect these items for needy men and women at the Rockville Day Center. Their schoolmates' families had responded generously, and they had numerous gift bags for the center.

Finally, they practiced singing several simple carols and songs until their parents arrive to pick them up. Mrs. Fuller collected permission slips for their Saturday morning Day Center field trip when they would deliver their gifts and serenade the staff of volunteers.

As Christine and Brennan collected their things to leave, Helen Fuller thanked the scientist.

"We've made some nice gifts for our families as well as for the homeless. You've made it possible for us to encourage a spirit of giving among our girls. I couldn't have accomplished all this without your willing, friendly, and efficient help, Temperance."

Brennan smiled back at the Scout leader. "Helen, you give far more time and effort to our children than any other parents or me. If I hadn't helped, someone else would have. You deserve much more gratitude from all of us than you probably ever hear."

"Nope, surprisingly, you and your husband are some of the few parents who respond when I need help. At any rate, I appreciate it more than I can say. I hope your family enjoys a wonderful holiday season."

"You too, Mrs. Fuller! Merry Christmas to you and Amanda and the rest of your family!" Christine replied. "I'm very lucky to be in your troop!"

Brennan picked up her messenger bag, put her arm around Christine's shoulder, and echoed her daughter's statements as they left the cafeteria.

Amanda watched them walk down the hall. "Mommy, Dr. Brennan really is a nice lady, huh?"

"Yes, she is, sweetie, but don't say 'huh'. Let's head for home, little lady. Your daddy is going to be hungry when he gets home from the office."


	7. Chapter 7

C4D Chapter 7

The third Saturday morning of December dawned clear and cold in the nation's capital. Brennan was grateful the roads were clear, since she'd volunteered to drive part of the Daisy Scouts to distribute holiday cheer at the Rockville Day Center. Hank was coming along because the innocent exuberance of little children always seemed to raise the spirits of those around them, even folks a bit down on their luck.

Amanda's aunt Holly Taylor was the other driver. Since Joey had recovered, she was anxious to spend time with her sister Helen, and give Lilly another chance to see her Daisy friends. Brennan knew the two little boys would engage in a mostly unintelligible conversation, entertaining each other and everyone else with their own brand of 'baby jabber' as Booth called their efforts to talk.

The chattering kindergartners spilled out of the two minivans and waited at the back for their leaders to unlock the vehicles' doors. They cooperatively carried two cardboard boxes filled with decorated paper sacks into the center's holly-festooned lobby.

Jared Langston, the director, greeted the girls warmly and held open the door for them. Across from the reception counter, folding chairs and vinyl-upholstered seats were filled with people drinking coffee in Styrofoam cups. As the center's clients began to notice the children, their faces brightened a bit. Helen Fuller steered her Scouts toward two long folding tables, where they unloaded their gifts.

Brennan and Mrs. Taylor followed behind, transporting large boxes of cookies in the storage rack of their strollers. Since heath department regulations prohibited home-baked goods, Jefferson Elementary School's cafeteria manager Terry Duncan had ordered a huge assortment of affordable cookies which Booth had picked up at Costco the previous evening. Mrs. Duncan's assistance had saved the troop's 'good deed' budget.

As the ladies arranged the aluminum trays of cookies, the Daisies walked among the adults, handing each a paper sack of warm winter clothing accessories. They were prepared for the variety of hands patting their shoulders in gratitude; some gnarled, some wrinkled, all gentle.

Some of the people seemed preoccupied, serious, or unhappy, but most gave them small smiles. Once all the clients had lined up for cookies and returned to their seats, the girls serenaded them with holiday songs as they ate. They ended with a shouted chorus of "Happy Holidays!" and Mr. Langston thanked the troop as their audience broke into applause.

Their 'good turn daily' completed, Daisy Troop 472 filed back out to the minivans, and loaded up for their reward. The girls were going to Rockville Town Square Plaza for ice skating and pizza. Booth and some of the other dads were there to surprise the group. Several were hockey teammates.

Much to Mrs. Fuller's relief, the men took over supervising their daughters and friends. Being of various skill levels, they slid and fell, raced and spun, chased or clung to the wall. But all had a good time, delighted by their fathers' unexpected appearance. The dads took particular care to thrill each little girl with a partnered circuit of the rink, skating faster than any of them could. Meanwhile, Brennan and Holly Taylor took their little boys home for much-needed naps.

On the final Tuesday before Winter Break began, the troop had its own Christmas party in the school cafeteria. Mrs. Duncan let them mix and bake sugar cookies in the big ovens, then brought out tubes of frosting for decorating. She wisely chose pastel colors, pink, green, and white, to prevent stains. Hot chocolate with marshmallows completed their snack.

Once the treats were nearly eaten, Christine and Kennedy stood up to present Mrs. Fuller's gift. The girls applauded their leader and shouted their thanks. Mopping her eyes, she smiled silently for several minutes, until her daughter Amanda spoke up.

"Mom, why do you always cry when you're happy?"

Kennedy assured her, "It's a mom thing. That's what they all do!"

Helen Fuller had her own surprise for her Daisies. Each girl received a small turquoise vinyl Daisy Girl Scout coin purse that zipped securely closed with a small daisy pull. The party meeting seemed to zoom by much faster than any earlier in the month. Amid laughing, thanks, and goodbyes, the girls cleaned up their tables, retrieved their backpacks, and headed outside for their rides. Only two more days till vacation!


	8. Chapter 8

C4D Chapter 8

The last of Brennan's child-for-father gift shopping was accomplished the next morning. Hank was due for a hepatitis-A vaccination and she planned to take him shopping as a distraction after the shot. She made certain her children received all recommended immunizations, though she spread them out a little more than some schedules advocated.

In an effort to reach all youngsters, the CDC had moved childhood shots to earlier ages, since many parents brought their babies in for check-ups more reliably than when they were older. Aware of this reasoning, Brennan had discussed a slower pace with the doctor who agreed it wasn't harmful.

Hank tolerated the shot well, distracted by his pediatrician's merry chatter. Dr. Houston had taken care of Parker, and Brennan found him to be an excellent physician. Rebecca might have given Booth grief and hassle in co-parenting, but she was a very conscientious mother, and her doctor recommendation carried weight when Christine was born.

Once a Spiderman Band-aid had been chosen and applied, mother and son left the medical complex and drove to Enzo Custom Clothiers. When she had first met Booth, Brennan noticed that the FBI agent dressed impeccably. Becoming better acquainted with him over the following years, she silently observed his habits as carefully as any culture she'd studied.

At the time, he was responsible for Parker's child support and quietly sent money to Pops' retirement center to pay part of his expenses each month. With his limited remaining resources, Booth was a very astute shopper. He purchased quality suits and shirts as he could afford them, waiting until sale pricing was offered.

He also took scrupulous care of his wardrobe to make it last, beginning when Grams had taught him basic sewing techniques; replacing buttons and such. For more garment maintenance, he relied upon Ri Le, a Vietnamese tailor Edwin Booth had helped immigrate to the U.S. several months before the fall of Saigon.

(Pops had told Brennan the story of Ri Le over a domino game during Booth's 'Hannah period.' The tailor's son had been a VNAF pilot who worked with Booth's father, planning several flight missions during the war. Other members of Ri's family were fortunately called to Hong Kong for a great-uncle's funeral on April 27, 1975, and remained there with relatives upon hearing the sad news of their country's defeat.

Lt. An Ri himself had piloted an F-5 to U Taphao Air Base in Thailand, assisting the American effort to evacuate U.S. supplied aircraft before the North Vietnamese could claim them. He was evacuated to Guam and eventually joined the U.S. Navy as a fighter pilot. The family was eventually reunited in D.C.

Aside from combat medals Seeley had glimpsed in his mother's jewelry box once, Edwin Booth's risky assistance to a fellow pilot's Vietnamese family was the most upstanding deed his son was aware of before alcohol and demons had taken their toll on his own. Edwin's commanding officer had thrown a fit, but this generous act made Booth realize his father had once been much more than a violent drunk.)

Remembering all this as she drove to the menswear store, Brennan was lost in thought. Suddenly an proclamation from the back seat drew her attention back to the present.

"Mama, hungy!" Little Hank exclaimed.

At the next stop light, Brennan fished in her messenger bag, located an emergency package of animal crackers and handed them back to her son.

"Here you go, little man. That will hold you until we reach the mall."

Finding a parking spot, she settled Hank into his stroller, and walked to the Smoothie King, where she bought him a kid-size strawberry straggisto shake. The little boy drained it in three minutes flat, then started whimpering.

"You drank it too quickly, didn't you, Kiddo? Now you've got a 'brain freeze' headache." Brennan sympathized.

Pulling a bottle of water from her bag, she uncapped it and offered him a drink.

"Room temperature water will remedy that fairly soon," she told him. "Better? Take a few more sips."

After discarding the shake cup and wiping Hank's mouth, Brennan pushed the stroller over to Enzo Custom, and entered the store. She went to a tie display and carefully positioned Hank so he couldn't grab at the merchandise. Then she showed him several choices before Booth's youngest son pointed to a navy tie with tiny crimson pin-dots woven through it.

"Good choice, Hank, that will go well with the new pale blue dress shirt I ordered for your father. Mr. Jacobi finished it yesterday. Our Christmas shopping for Daddy is nearly complete!"

Thanking the tailor for his excellent workmanship, Brennan paid for her purchases as the older man made funny faces at Hank.

"Your leetle boy looks so much like his father, Dr. Brennan, but he has your azure eyes. One of these days, he's going to break a few hearts, I theenk!"

"Thank you, Otto, we think he's a keeper!" Brennan replied. "Have a happy holiday season with your family."


	9. Chapter 9

C4D chapter 9

Once school let out December 22 for Christmas break, time seemed to speed by. A tree was selected, erected, adorned, and adored by the entire family. Dressy clothes for Midnight Mass were chosen, laundered, inspected, and pressed. Christmas Eve dinner was served early.

Brennan had simmered Kansas City Plaza Steak Soup all day in two pots; one with round steak, the other with browned tofu. Its vegetables, stock and seasoning blended into an enticing aroma no one could resist. With sour dough bread, it was the perfect cold winter night's supper. Once the children and Booth were dressed for church, (which began at 9 pm, not midnight, to Brennan's amusement) the family gathered in the living room. A fire in the hearth crackled behind the couch, and the tree sparkled in front of the picture window.

Christine could barely contain her excitement. Hank wasn't quite sure why, but if his favorite big sister was happy about something, so was he. Knowing how much work their daughter had put into her Daisy Scout family gift, Brennan had suggested a special Christmas Eve gift presentation for Booth from his children. Her husband's eyes twinkled as he glanced knowingly at Christine.

"I think there might be a few special gifts around here for Mommy, also, right Chrissy?" he said.

Brennan looked at them with surprise and smiled widely.

"I can't wait, let's get started!"

Hank ran back and forth between his parents, jabbering gleefully. Christine got down on her hands and knees very carefully, mindful of her fancy dress, and pulled several brightly-wrapped presents from beneath the tree. She handed two gift bags to her little brother, and carried two packages herself.

"Here, Mommy; here Daddy, these are from me," she said proudly.

"Mamamama! Dadadadada!" Hank babbled, reverting a little in his excitement, as he plopped a bag in each of their laps.

The couple hugged each child, then ceremoniously opened each gift.

Booth was delighted by the phone book and Christine's obvious efforts.

"This book will be very helpful to your mother and me!" he told her. "Ya think maybe you could make me another for my office?" he asked.

Beaming, Christine agreed. "Sure, Daddy, I can do that!"

Then Brennan took a turn, opening the journal from Christine.

She smiled at her daughter, as tears sparkled in her eyes. "Thank you, sweetheart. My other journal is nearly full; I can use this one right away. You did such a beautiful job decorating it."

"Aunt Genny sewed it for me, Mom! She did a great job!"

"She certainly did, the stitching is perfect. On such a narrow edge, that is difficult to achieve."

Brennan reached further into the box and finding the pencil can, she smiled at Booth.

"Your daddy's Grams taught him to make these, and now he's taught you!" she remarked.

Booth's eyes glowed with love and satisfaction. "You're right, Bones," he said softly.

"That's also how Grams wrapped presents, Mom, and you can use a new tea towel, right?" Christine told her mother.

"I definitely can, what a smart idea!" Brennan answered. "Thank you both for my wonderful useful gifts!"

"There's one more at the bottom!" Christine told her.

Pulling out the colorful pot holder, Brennan chuckled.

"I can always use another one of these, so I don't burn my fingers! Thanks, honey!"

"Grams taught Daddy how to make those too, and he taught me!"

"Your Great-Grams was a very clever lady!"

"Daddy's clever too, huh, Mom?"

"Most certainly, yes he is, dearest, but don't say 'huh' please."

"Thank you for all my wonderful gifts, Christine!" Brennan kissed her daughter's forehead.

"And thank you, too, Booth!" she murmured, leaning over to kiss him.

Not to be out done, Hank crawled into his mother's lap, dragging the gift bag with him.

"Mama! Mine!" he demanded.

Brennan peered dramatically into the gift bag. "This bag is so big, I wonder what it could have inside!"

She withdrew the brightly colored spatula set.

"These are perfect for baking your favorite chocolate chip cookies, Hank. Thank you, little man!"

"Cookies!" Hank crowed.

Next his mother found the rooster and hen salt and pepper shakers, and broke into a grin. "How clever these are." Then she paused, and spoke softly, "My mother had a very similar set, almost the same….."

"So did Grams, and Mom did too, for that matter. I think these were in every kitchen when we were kids!" Booth told her, squeezing her hand.

Knowing her little son was short on patience, Brennan swiped at her eyes, took a deep breath, and pulled out the calendar towel.

"This will be perfect for tracking the passage of time, as well as teaching you the months of next year, as well as your numbers, my dear little boy!" she told Hank with a big hug.

Hank wriggled out of her embrace and launched himself at his father's knees.

"Daddy! Now!" he insisted.

Booth picked up his gift bag, and solemnly peeked inside.

"There's nothing in here but tissue paper," he complained.

Christine wisely wiggled over to her father, and reached inside.

"Silly Dad! Your gift is under the paper! I can feel it!""

"Oh, you think so?" Booth asked her with a straight face.

"Well, let me take a look. By George, you're right!" he said, pulling out the tie.

"Who's George?" Christine wanted to know.

"It's just an expression," Booth chuckled. "You sound just like your mom."

Brennan rolled her eyes at him. Hank grabbed his father's face. "Tie!" he said.

"Thanks, Hank the Tank, for my handsome tie!" Booth exclaimed, engulfing his son in a bear hug.

Hank squealed in delight.

"You've added a new word to your vocabulary," said Brennan proudly.

Booth glanced at his grandfather's watch, which he only wore on special occasions.

"If we don't get a move on, we're going to be late for listening to the Christmas Carols! Chop, chop! Let's get going!"

"I'd like to come with you," Brennan said unexpectedly. She was dressed in nice navy slacks and a beautiful blue cashmere sweater that accentuated her eyes. Her husband gave her an especially meaningful 'charm' smile, and a kiss.

"That would really be nice, Bones," he said softly.

"If Hank gets sleepy, we can take turns holding him, Booth," she responded, kissing him back soundly.

"Everyone get their coats. Last one to the front door is a broken ornament!"

"Daddy, that's not how it goes!" Christine chided him.

Booth swept her up into his arms. "Let's go, little lady! Time's a-wasting! It's almost Christmas, Chrissy!"

"Kis-mas!" Hank agreed.

Forty-five minutes later, he was sound asleep. His parents nestled him into their coats on the pew seat, and smiled down at their daughter. Standing between them, on the kneeler to be taller than usual, she smiled back happily. "It's gonna be a happy Christmas!" she whispered.


	10. Chapter 10

Christmas for Daddy Chapter 10

Once Christmas Eve services had concluded at St Matthew's Cathedral, Booth and Brennan had returned home with their drowsy children. As soon as warm comfy pajamas had replaced Christine's velvet dress and Hank's miniature suit, Brennan brought a tray of hot cocoa to their bedside tables. She smiled at her husband rocking back and forth, their son soundly asleep in his arms.

Pops' little namesake was too tired and zonked out to even notice the treat. His mother lifted the boy and tucked him into the white toddler bed, while Booth took a sip of the warm chocolate drink. Brushing tousled hair out of his boy's face as he'd once done for Parker, the deeply satisfied father smiled in quite awe.

A decade earlier, this wondrous scene had been far out of reach. Who would have guessed, that day in American University Lecture Hall IV, the statuesque woman he gazed at would become his wife? What a dream come true his Bones had given him.

The subject of his thoughts watched his face change. She recognized his emotions very well, sharing his wonder that their situation had ever become reality for the next 40 or 50 years. Picking up the cocoa tray, she followed her husband down the hall to their daughter's room. Christine was sitting on the side of her bed, staring at a lacy sock in one hand.

"Hey, Monkey, you plan on wearing that to bed?" Booth asked her with a quiet chuckle. He took the sock and laid it on her dresser as Brennan handed Christine the mug. The little girl took a drink and smiled up at her mother.

"Tha's yummy cocoa, Mommy, but I'm reeaally tired. Can I finish it in the morning?"

"Certainly, Baby Girl. Lie back and let me straighten your covers," Brennan replied softly. Once the colorful Frozen comforter and soft white sheets were smoothly in place, she kissed Christine's forehead and stepped aside slightly for Booth.

"Night, Daddy," Christine murmured.

"G'night, Cupcake, sweet dreams, sleep tight," Booth answered, kissing the top of her head. "Mommy and I will see you in the morning."

The couple left the bedroom door ajar, and descended the stairway arm in arm. They finished off the cocoa, rinsed the mugs and placed them in the dishwasher.

"I was going to give you one present tonight, Bones, but I'm as bushed as the kids!"

"I suggest we postpone our gift exchange until tomorrow evening, or perhaps a moment when the children are engaged in playing with their new toys," Brennan agreed.

"Christine worked very hard on your gifts, Booth. She was delighted when her Brownie leader came up with a practical idea for each family. I realize you helped her achieve the same for me. My journal and pencil holder will be very useful in January. Our child has experienced the fulfillment of giving presents she fashioned herself. An achievement she'll treasure in the future as much as I did."

"Oh? What gifts did you make for Max and your mom?" Booth asked with a smile.

"Each year, I made a calendar at school for them. Our teacher would mimeograph sheets with the date grid, and we children could draw a picture for each month. Once we finished, the sheets were stapled together with a ribbon at the top for hanging the calendar. It seemed to be useful to my parents, as they hung it in the kitchen and wrote on it all year."

"I mainly wove potholders for my mom and Grams," Booth confided. "Those yarn loops left lint all over the carpet and sofa, but Mom just cleaned them up before Dad came home. She never complained, and always acted very surprised Christmas morning," he remembered.

"Some of our childhood memories are positive, at least," Brennan said softly, wiping her eyes.

"Yes, they are, my Bones, and you've made more wonderful memories possible for our children and me," Booth declared, hugging her tightly.

"As have you, Booth. It has been a very satisfying Christmas Eve so far, and tomorrow should be quite enjoyable too."

"That's assuming we get some shut-eye before Hank lands in the middle of our bed at 5:30 a.m. Let's hit the hay, Bones! Last one in bed has to start the coffee!"

"Good night Booth. Merry Christmas," Brennan murmured, slipping her nightgown over her head.

G'night, my sleepy Bones. I'm too tired to do more than kiss you, Mrs. Booth. Sleep well, my love."

Shucking his clothes where they landed, Booth pulled on sleep pants, slid in beside his wife, and turned out the bedside lamp.

"Merry Christmas to all, and to all a Good night!" he muttered as he followed her into slumber.


	11. Chapter 11

Christmas for Daddy Chapter 11

 **A/N: Here is a final chapter to wrap up my Christmas story for DukeFan1982. Here's hoping 2018 is a wonderful and prosperous New Year for all Bones FF readers!**

Booth and Christine were knee-deep in boxes, tissue paper and bubble wrap, taking keepsake items off their Christmas tree and carefully packing ornaments for storage until next year. Brennan was seated at the dining room table, entering appointments, speaking engagements, and family birthdays into the new journal and calendar their daughter had made for her and Booth.

She watched fondly as her daughter cradled Gram's star which had topped Christmas trees for many years. Booth straightened a pouch of crinkly bubble wrap and held it open as their little girl placed the delicate abalone star into its protective nest. Family lore was that Gram's brother had brought it back from the South Pacific after his World War II service on Tarawa. One of his buddies had passed the time carving the pearly shells into trinkets and shared them with his tent mates.

She lifted her new Irish Beleek Harp Shamrock tea cup and sipped the fragrant Earl Grey brew. Angela had presented her with the unique 'Tea for One' set on Christmas Eve. Consisting of a miniature teapot perched atop a teacup, it allowed the user to steep and enjoy two cups of tea with one clever unit. She smiled at Booth over the top of Christine's head, communicating silently with him as they often did.

" _She's growing so fast; it seems only last Christmas she had just mastered fine motor skills and delighted in grabbing handfuls of gift wrap."_

" _Bones, she has your genius brain; so of course, she grasps new concepts faster than other kids."_

" _Her advanced social skills are all from you, Booth!"_

" _Wonder if Hank will have a similar personality, or entirely different…."_

At that moment, the object of his father's conjecture complained loudly from upstairs. Hank had awoken from his nap and was vociferously demanding release from his crib. At 14 months, the little boy hadn't quite managed to hook his chubby leg over the railing and climb out on his own. More slender and lithe, Christine had learned to escape from the crib several months earlier than her stocky younger brother.

"I'll get him, Booth," Brennan said, as her husband started to extricate his legs from the sea of packing materials and boxes.

"Thanks, Bones. Hey, Monkey, whaddya say we finish filling this box with glass balls and take a break for turkey sandwiches?"

"Sounds yummy, Daddy! Can I spread the mayonnaise?"

Brennan came down the stairs with Hank in her arms, the rooster salt shaker grasped tightly in his fist. His mother had little hope of using her gift if and until he lost interest in the colorful condiment set, since the rooster and hen were currently Hank's favorite playthings.

Booth looked up at his feisty son's jabbering to the ceramic bird, and smiled at his wife.

"Our children gave us a very nice Christmas, didn't they, Bones?"

"Yes, Booth, they did…with a little help from Brownie leaders, teachers, and parent elves," Brennan replied with a grin.

"Mommy, you're not an elf!" Christine protested. "They're at the North Pole with Santa Claus!"

Her mother rolled her eyes, as Booth spoke up.

"Chrissy-cakes, there are all sorts of elves around at Christmas time; kids, parents, charitable groups like the Salvation Army. We all help make the holidays brighter for our families and those around us. For our friends and loved ones, as well as needy folks we don't necessarily know."

"Oh, I guess you're right, Daddy, Can I stay up til midnight when the year changes?"

"Nope, kiddo, not this year. I didn't get to do that til I turned ten, and that's a few years off for you!"

"We'll save you a few sparklers, party poppers, and fizzy grape juice for tomorrow morning, honey," Brennan added.

"I guess that's okay," Christine sighed. "But I really wanted to watch 'Rug Rats Ring in the New Year'" she said hopefully.

"Nuthin' doin' Missy! Here's your sandwich, go sit down and eat so we can finish taking down the Christmas tree and get it to the park for Twelfth Night before it's so dry, it drops all its needles on the living room carpet!" Booth exclaimed.

"Didn't you put down that big white Christmas tree containment bag I bought, Booth?"

"Darn, I knew I forgot something important!" he frowned. "Guess we can save it to use next year!"


	12. Chapter 12

Christmas for Daddy Chapter 12

Epilogue

After moving Hank's favorite plush bear so its fur wasn't right next to his nose, Booth leaned over his son's crib and gently kissed his forehead. The ceramic rooster was still clasped firmly in the little boy's fist.

"G'night, little man; sleep well," he whispered softly.

He checked the muted night light and exited the nursery, leaving the door ajar behind him. He smiled seeing his wife doing the same outside Christine's room.

"Our little Tiger is out like a light, Bones. Is our Monkey asleep yet?"

Brennan chuckled. "Booth, you make it sound as though we're running a zoo, rather than a family. Yes, Christine is sleeping soundly already. She dozed off halfway through _The Going to Bed Book._ "

Descending the stairs together, her head on his shoulder, she continued, "The gifts you helped Hank choose for me were very special, Booth. Each is simultaneously practical and memorable. Those colorful spatulas are very useful and the cardinal calendar towel reminds me of my mom's favorite birds in our back yard. We used to watch the Northern cardinals together all winter. The males' plumage is so bright, she'd say they eased her off of watching Christmas lights around town, since they were taken down in January."

My father would remark that she was lucky they had expanded their common range into the northern states, being able to adapt to suburban human habitats like parks and back yards. Did you know that cardinals are rather unique among songbirds, in that both males and females sing? My mom would just shush Max, telling him we were at home, not in his science classroom."

Booth loved it when his Bones went into her lecture mode, and could well imagine her father doing the same. His beloved 'apple' didn't fall far from the tree. One of his biggest regrets, which he never voiced, was that he would never get the chance to know Christine Brennan. He imagined she was as remarkable a person as Max. The loving childhood they'd given their daughter had enabled her to survive horrid traumas after they drove out of town that fateful December day after McVicar reappeared.

Brennan watched his eyes as these thought flickered through Booth's head.

"I doubt that rooster shaker will ever contain any pepper, since Hank thinks it's his," she laughed.

Booth kissed her cheek and agreed. "It was a good thing Grams had two rooster salt and pepper sets. Right after we came to live with them, Jared claimed one pair as his own. Mom had a set they'd given her, and it reminded him of home. The kid carried those around the house with him for months. The only reason he didn't take them to school was that Pops knew he'd get teased unmercifully and suggested Jared let them keep Grams company during the day."

After pulling two Yuenglings out of the fridge, the pair settled on the couch side by side. Booth stretched out, resting his stockinged feet on the coffee table, and was surprised when his wife followed suit.

"You know, Booth, the calendar Christine made for you was supposed to be unique. When her Brownie leader first explained the project to the girls and asked for my help, Christine told me on the way home that she wanted it to be a special surprise for you, just from her. But then, I guess she decided to make something for me as well, and needed your help."

Remembering some unevenly-scribbled calendars he'd made for Grams years earlier, Booth gave his wife a crooked charm smile.

"If you could see the scraggly collection of hand-made presents I gave my grandparents, you'd laugh, Bones! Our teachers used to mimeograph blank calendar pages every year right after Thanksgiving, and we'd spend art periods for several weeks coloring those in for our families. Pops probably still had a box of them in his closet at Willow River. Grams and he never discarded any of our Christmas gifts like that."

"We decorated cigar boxes with macaroni and the teachers spray-painted them," Brennan told him. "My parents had a whole collection of those stacked on a bookshelf in our living room. One each year from me, and several from Russ. Used them for pencils, paper clips, recipe cards, and who knows what else," she remembered.

"I bet yours were a whole lot prettier than Russ's," Booth chuckled. "One year we made Christmas wreaths out of coat hangers bent into a circle and covered with strips of plastic tied around them. The girls in our class made sure they were fully covered. The boys' wreaths were rather skimpy by comparison… Like Charlie Brown's Christmas tree."

"And they were treasured just the same," Brennan assured him. "Just like the things Christine made for us. I wish I had a few of mine to show her," she said wistfully.

"I know, Bones. I'm sorry you don't," Booth told her. "Maybe the stories you can tell her about those boxes would mean just as much. We can both describe our childhood gifts to her…That way she'll realize we were once kids like her….What do you think?"

"That's an excellent idea," Brennan yawned. "Let's do it over breakfast tomorrow."

"Come on, my sleepy Bones. Let's get you tucked into bed, too."

Brennan nodded and headed for the stairs. Booth checked all the windows, doors, and security system, left a small light on in the kitchen and followed his wife up to bed.

"It's been a good Christmas," he thought to himself. "How lucky I am to have this family Bones has given me. So many years, I thought it would never happen, but it did. I'm a blessed and fortunate guy."

 **A/N: My post-Thanksgiving shopping trips and Christmas season of hosting family and guests from out of town were happy chaos but uncomfortably hectic, and my replies to readers' reviews, thanking y'all for your kind comments, went by the wayside over these past couple of months. I'm pleased you enjoyed the Christmas story I wrote for DukeFan1982, and relished all your thoughtful comments which enlivened my email inbox. May the New Year of 2018 bring every Fan Fiction reader and writer much happiness, great health, wishes fulfilled, and prosperity in every aspect of their lives. Here's to more stories and happy reading in the months to come. Some of you readers really ought to try your hand at writing. Your reviews are eloquent enough, no reason you can't conjure up very satisfying FF stories of your own!**


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